


Only The Horses

by TheFifthDollanganger



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Equestrian, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFifthDollanganger/pseuds/TheFifthDollanganger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'll hear us calling, and save us by morning light. Only the horses. Royai AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"NO! No, you stupid girl! You could've had that in three strides!" Berthold Hawkeye yelled at his daughter as she exited her show jumping round, grabbing her jumping crop from her hand and smacking her leg with it. Riza didn't even flinch, used to it by now in her fifteen years.

"If I did it in three I would've possibly knocked a rail coming into my triple combination." Riza told him calmly, dismounting and giving her comrade Gunner a pat and a kiss on the muzzle.

Berthold pulled the girl's face away, dragging her by the ear and the horse the the reins to it's stall. As soon as Riza had gotten the Gunner's bridle off the elder Hawkeye grabbed the jumping crop again and smacked the poor animal across the face. Gunner let out a blood chilling screech of a whinny and reared up, tossing his dappled grey head, which had been scarred from previous abuse from Riza's father and others. The whites of his eyes were visible and the terrified creature was practically blowing smoke out of his nose.

Even though she knew it was dangerous, Riza got between her hated father and her beloved horse, pushing Gunner backward by the chest and taking the next strike across her face. She tasted blood, but honestly couldn't care less. As long as her white horse's face wasn't marred by red, she and Gunner could be considered alright. Berthold simply rolled his eyes. "Get that useless wretch loaded and get your half assed self in the truck. We're going home."

Unable to stand it anymore, even though she knew the consequences, Riza turned to her father and simply said. "Don't judge a thing 'til you know what's inside it." That night in the barn, Berthold Hawkeye beat girl and horse until both were bloody, bruised, and broken in some places. At the end of it, neither could speak. They never did with words anyway, but the look in their eyes said one thing, and one thing only. Sticks and stones, blows and throws may bruise their bodies and break their bones, but nothing could break one's spirit.


	2. Chapter One

"ATTA BOY! ATTA BOY! KICK 'ER! SHARP ROUND YOUR TURNS!" Eighteen year old Roy Mustang didn't need the yells of instruction as he turned around the metal barrels with practiced ease. He'd be doing this since he was eleven years old, and was one hundred percent confident that as long as he had Whiskey, under him, he could run the cloverleaf blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back.

"14.9 seconds! That time will take the win for eighteen year old Roy Mustang and his incredible little speed demon of a mare _Whiskey Undid My Zipper_!" The words came over the loudspeaker like thunder. The locally famed 'Mustang Rider' whooped and threw his hands up as he galloped through the gate to end his run. The roar of the crown, the thundering of hooves, and the voice of the announcer was better than any drug to him. He swore it could keep him alive.

Berthold Hawkeye laughed and screamed. "That's my boy!" He clapped Roy on the back as he dismounted, taking off the teen's cowboy hat and putting it over the chestnut Quarter Horse's ear. He ruffled Roy's hair. "Go get that ribbon, buckle, and cash! You and that horse earned that and more!" As Roy walked off Berthold shoved Whiskey's reins into Riza's hands. "Cool her off and get her prettied up. You're in big trouble if she doesn't look like a million bucks."

Riza sighed as she picked out Whiskey's hooves. She may be an English rider, but she could tell that Roy Mustang, her father's apprentice and crown jewel, was damn incredible and a force to be reckoned with. While Roy loved the glory and competition, Riza lived for the challenge and just the sheer feel of a horse under her. While both rode horses, that was where the similarities ended.

It may seem sad; a man's own daughter shoved aside for a boy not even related. This had been going on since Riza was eight, and she didn't expect any stop. It was life for her. It didn't upset her anymore. She had become numb to it, immune to the lack of positive and abundance of the negative. She had just learned to live with it. Sometimes the girl dreamed of being an equal to her male rival in her father's eyes. She didn't ask for more than equality. "Nice ass, Hawkeye."

Riza dropped Whiskey's hoof, stood up from her crouched position, and whirled around to see her rival standing there with a smirk on his face. "How long have you been there?!" She growled.

Roy chuckled, holding his hands up. "Relax. I've only been here like maybe two seconds." Riza raised an eyebrow in an expression of distrust, a hand on her hip. "Seriously. I never lie to girls."

"If we weren't in public I'd slap you stupid for being a chauvinist pig." The blonde told her companion coolly. Roy tutted, shaking his head. "And here I was about to compliment you!"

"Compliment me?" Riza snorted, scowling in disbelief. "On what? My ass? My boobs?"

Roy had to laugh at her expression. "Both are mighty fine indeed but I was going to tell you how I liked your free horse dressage to music thingy. It had sass."

It was Riza's turn to laugh at him. "Three Day Eventers don't do a freestyle for dressage, dumbass." She thought for a second. "What do you mean by free horse, anyway?"

"Y'know," Roy leaned against the stall door, letting Whiskey snuffle his shoulder. "Like a week ago when you had the radio on with you in the round pen when you were playing with Bomber-"

"Gunner!" Riza corrected, rolling her eyes.

Roy shrugged and let Whiskey have a piece of candy from his pocket. "Same difference. Both are fiery weapons." That earned him a stern glare. "Anyway, when you were making Army Horse rear and do the fancy walking and trotting to music."

Riza sighed and simply shook her head. For being a horse person, this guy was incredibly thick. "That's not dressage. That's liberty. The 'fancy walking and trotting' was Spanish Walk, Passage, and Piaffe."

"Whatever." Roy turned from the female of the equine variety to the female of his own species. "Anyway, I have a proposition for you."

"No, I will not go out for a drink wi-"

Roy cut her off. "Maybe some other time. What I was going to say was, even though you never say it, I know you want to be equal to me." Riza was surprised by this statement, surprised enough to at least listen to what the boy had to say. She nodded for him to continue. "So I had a thought. I'll teach you to be a proper honky tonk cowgirl if you teach me to jump."

Riza smirked. "You realize I also have to teach you dressage to jump. You don't get to jump until you learn it." Roy opened his mouth to argue but decided against it. This girl owned many riding crops. "How do we keep your dad from finding out?"

"I'm surprised that you'd go against your Lord." Riza drawled, but thought. "He'll be away for a few months starting Monday. Let's do it." She hoped she wasn't going to regret this.


End file.
